Ace of Spades
by Elessar King
Summary: In foreign decks of cards, the suit of spades was often swords instead. oneshot, post Casino Royale, Craig.


I've been trying to write something Bond for weeks now, ever since I first saw Casino Royale. I've been a Bond fan…forever, Dad introduced me to it when I was like 6 or something, and I always liked Connery, then I saw Goldeneye in theatres and I loved that one so much because, well…Sean Bean. But after that, I sort of waned on the new ones because Brosnen just didn't quite…go with it, you know? Craig, yeah, second to Connery, our first and beloved James Bond. Thus, my story is the newest incarnation of Bond. I'm not terribly happy with it, if it sucks…yeah, it does suck…then um, I apologize, but here you have it.

Ace of Spades

There was a deck of cards in the drawer of the desk that he pulled his chair over to, sitting next to it. Picking up the cards, he fanned them across the table, the flipped them all over in one solid motion before he collected them again and shuffled the entire deck a few times.

Bond hadn't picked up a deck of cards since Casino Royale. It wasn't so much that he hadn't wanted to, just had he hadn't. He simply hadn't been able to play, which was a shame he thought. After that victory, he felt that he could taken on the best poker players in the world and win. A small smirk formed on his face – he probably could. But now, there was no one to play with, only himself and the cards. He dealt seven cards on the desk.

He continued to stack the cards until the solitaire game had been set. Bond reached inside his coat and took out his weapon, screwing on the silencer before placing it on the table next to the cards where it was in reach. He flipped over the first card.

Queen of Hearts. Vesper.

While he hadn't touched a deck of cards in all that time, it would taste a lie to say that he hadn't thought about Vesper. Bond was 11 when he lost his ability to trust. He was 38 when he regained it. There was a reason that he didn't trust anyone. It only led to pain. For Vesper, he had been willing to quit his job, and sail around the world with her. He let his emotions blind him – he let trust blind him. It was a mistake that would never happen again.

His armor was back on now, and not liable to come down again. He flipped over another card.

Jack of Diamonds.

Bond had worked with Mathis before, but that didn't change the fact that he should have seen it coming earlier. After all, James Bond trusted no one. It had been so obvious too, but the game and Vesper proved to be bigger distractions than he intended. Mathis slipped unnoticed into his personal radar and stabbed him in the back. At the end of it all, M was quick to shove the entire blame on Vesper as the double agent, but le Chiffre's words rang in Bond's head.

"Your friend Mathis…is actually _my_ friend Mathis."

No, it was not his ego speaking when he said that they were both dirty. Bond flipped over another card.

King of Spades.

Le Chiffre. Cold, calculating, with a tendency for weeping blood from an injured eye, to which he claimed was only a physical problem, nothing sinister. In truth, it was nothing but sinister.

In foreign decks of cards, the suit of spades was often swords instead. Le Chiffre was not a swordsman – he was a card player – but spades fit him well. And he was not a coward. He was an excellent match, almost coming out on top, after sending in two double agents. But in the end, he still lost. Le Chiffre was not the highest card.

Bond turned over another.

Ace of Spades.

He was the one to come out on top. Highest card. James Bond was the Ace of Spades. Unlike le Chiffre, he belong to the suit with swords, and he was the master of it. And the black suited him well. He was very much like le Chiffre – they both belonged to the world that was black, and cold.

During the operation in Montenegro, Mathis chanced to ask him, "So, has our girl melted your cold heart yet?"

Bond had merely raised an eyebrow at the question, not giving a response. Now that he thought about it, Mathis' curiosity could have been a warning. The words _our girl_, being highly suspicious. But who would he be to suspect someone like her.

Or perhaps, Bond thought as he tapped the Ace of Spades still in his hand on the table, it had been an honest question. Had Vesper indeed melted his cold heart.

He looked up as a shadow crossed the doorway. Bond reached for the gun on the desk next to the cards and flicked the safety off as he brought it up. The figure of the man that appeared in the doorway didn't have time to register surprise before the soft _pfft_ of the silenced Walther P99 implanted a bullet in his head, and his body slumped to the floor.

Standing up, Bond unscrewed the silencer and replaced the pistol in his shoulder holster under his jacket. At the emotionless expression on his face, the answer to Mathis' question was clearly no. His heart was still just as cold. The lesson was learned, he moved on into the present because living in the past would provide him with nothing.

He looked down at the card in his hand and as he stepped over the body of the man he had been sent to kill, he tucked it away inside his jacket pocket. When the body would be discovered, they would also find the Ace of Spades missing from the deck of cards on the desk.


End file.
